


Time Warp

by BaffledFox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia Reaper, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Blind Jack, Blowjobs, Bottom Gabriel, Bottom Jack, Canon Divergence(sort of), Current timeline, Deaf Jack, Emotional Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Just about every OW character, Lingerie, M/M, Monster Reaper, PTSD, Rimming, SEP era, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Slow Burn(sort of), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide mention, Time Travel AU, Top Gabriel, Top Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaffledFox/pseuds/BaffledFox
Summary: Jack finds himself a part of a very vivid dream of when things used to be good and whole.Just a dream, right?Each time he comes back to the present more clues point to the fact that this is real. He's really going back in time. Eventually being contacted by a mysterious woman, Jack's life goes from hard and simple to complicated and emotional real quick.{Time Travel AU - No control of the time traveling} {Changing the future}





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on the summary. Not sure exactly how to sum up all this stuff. 
> 
> Anyway! This is going to be a long fic. I update things as I get inspired. So, it might be a while between updates. But, I have already started chapter two, so that's something. This story also actually has a timeline and a plot direction that's more set in stone than my other works. I'm hoping I can pick this off the ground pretty easily. 
> 
> I know there's a lot of Time Travel AUs but I'm hoping this one is a little different. So, enjoy!

He’s been here before. 

In a different life, in a different time. 

It was a strange feeling, like his mind just came online in a different body, but it was his body. He was standing in the cafeteria on a military base. During the SEP, everyone around him were wearing simple uniforms but the name of the program was emblazoned on the right pocket on everyone’s shirts. 

It was busy, so many voices, too much sound, he felt overwhelmed. 

He’d been blind, nearly deaf, and now he was here, among all this chaos. Again. Able to see, able to hear. 

Jack didn’t know how, it was strange how his mind was disjointed from then to now. But he knew, he remembered, he knew what happened, knew what he had become--

“You going to stand there all day?” 

Jack closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying not to hyperventilate. He knew that voice, smooth like honey and whiskey warm. Gabriel Reyes. He was gone too, dead. The lunch tray was held in his hand like a guard, he couldn’t open his eyes again, if he did it would all be--

“Jack?” The voice said again, a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder, and softer, “Jackie?” Was said by his ear, just for him.

He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, burning behind his closed lids. It wasn’t real, this wasn’t real, what happened, why was this happening? 

“Breathe.” Gabriel said, that hand on his shoulder moving instead to press against the middle of his back. 

“Gabriel.” His voice trembled. He hadn’t said that name in years, it hurt too much before. Hurts just as much now. 

His partner seemed to pick up on the distress, at least enough to urge his tray down on a nearby table along with his own, gently pushing Jack out of the cafeteria and into the open hallway just outside. Jack had opened his eyes from then to now, but he didn’t look at Gabriel, didn’t think he could. Instead he just watched his feet through the watery outline of unshed tears. He sniffed loudly, could feel the warm body at his side--

Gabriel didn’t give him an option to keep avoiding him, instead he tipped Jack’s chin up and looked down at him. 

Just as he remembered.

From his nightmares, and his dreams.

Gabriel was looking at him, his brown eyes endless, concerned, warm. His hair was shaved, meant they had only been in the program a year. Especially with Gabriel’s goatee not as wild as it got to be later, more trimmed and sparse when he was young. Those scars on his face, he always had those, from a grenade mishap in basic. 

He was right there.

But this wasn’t real. 

Jack swallowed, looking probably just as lost as he felt if the furrow in Gabriel’s brow was anything to go by. 

“Jesus Jack,” He said, hushed, his hand running over his forehead, down his neck as if searching for a fever. “Thought you were over getting sick from the injections. What’s going on? You look like you’re going to cry.” It wasn’t said in any which way, more of a factual observation than anything else. 

Jack was still overwhelmed, seeing Gabe, hearing him--

“There’s something wrong.” He blurted out before he could stop himself, as if this fragment of the past would be able to help him. 

Gabriel frowned, his hands planted on either side of his throat, just holding there as he watched him like someone would a startled animal. “Tell me.” He coaxed, “I can take you to medical right now.” 

No, he couldn’t go to medical. Nothing was wrong. 

Except for the fact he was here, in a time and place he shouldn’t be. He couldn’t explain that.

Logically, this was probably just a vivid dream, and any moment he’d probably wake up. 

The thought was jarring, forcing a pain in his chest. He’d lose Gabe again. 

“N-no,” He stammered, “I just need to lay down. Can we lay down? Together?” He said, unable to keep the note of desperation out of his voice. 

Gabriel looked at him with that same confused, concerned look but nodded all the same. “Sure.” He said, nudging him down the hall, and now Jack couldn’t stop looking at his partner. 

Stealing glances as they walked; how young he looked, how vibrant and alive. 

He went years with Gabriel dead, with their relationship in ruins before that. Those pains had never left him, which made the scene in front of him harder to comprehend. 

This was just a dream.

An amazing, vivid dream. 

It didn’t take long for them to get to their room on the opposite side of the base. Once there Gabriel flicked on the lights and everything was exactly how he remembered. The bunk bed on the left side of the room, where once Jack took the top and Gabriel took the bottom, only to convene into one when they started their relationship. 

It never really had an official start, it seemed they just gravitated into each other until they gave it a name. 

The little dresser in the center of the room had their family photos on it, with trinkets they had given each other, or things they had found on missions before this program. Next to that leaned Gabriel’s guitar in its case, he used to sing him songs when the pain of injections got bad, love songs when they both started to fall. 

What he wouldn’t give to hear him play again. 

“Jackie,” Gabriel said, at his side, a hand on his lower back, “You look in your head again.” 

“Sorry,” He replied quickly, rubbing at his eyes, the stubble on his face, exhaling sharply, “I just--” 

It felt too real, being here. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to medical?” 

“I’m sure.” He said, looking to the bottom bunk, where they both slept. It had more pillows than it should, and three blankets. Gabriel hated being cold and Jack was a pillow stealer. The bed was barely big enough for the two of them, but they managed it. 

It sent a wave of nostalgia roiling in his guts. 

Gabriel’s warm hand ran under Jack’s shirt, touching skin and causing the blond to close his eyes and arch into the touch. “Lay with me?” The man murmured behind him and Jack nodded. 

They moved to the bed together, undressing along the way, a long ago habit. Jack didn’t sleep in warm beds anymore as a vigilante, he didn’t have the luxury of being somewhere safe, naked. Didn’t have a home anymore, his home had died when Gabriel died--

But now it was here, it was back, even if it was only for this fleeting moment of madness, this fever dream he was clearly having. 

Jack laid atop his lover, their bare skin touching, the feeling of it electric, something visceral that he had missed but maybe didn’t know the depth until this moment. It felt so real, his skin, could even smell his scent, something like spice and gunpowder. He nosed at Gabriel’s jaw, his throat, just breathing him in and wishing he never had to wake up again. 

Maybe he died.

Maybe this was heaven. 

Jack whimpered as Gabriel drew his nails over his freckled shoulders, along the back of his neck. 

People like him didn’t go to heaven. 

“Sensitive today?” Gabriel asked, he could feel the twitch of his lips against his temple; he was smiling. 

Jack had never been intimate with anyone after Gabriel. When he took on his Soldier persona he locked that human part of himself away, let it die in that fire all the same. 

“Yeah.” He said, running his hand over Gabriel’s slightly hairy chest, into the grooves, bumps and scars as he touched down his belly. He didn’t have as many scars yet, no real blemishes, those would come later. After they went to hell and back; bullet wounds, knife wounds, fire damage and acid burns. He’d known them all by heart, even now, even when Gabriel’s skin didn’t bear the damage yet. 

Everything felt surreal, like he was touching a ghost. 

Gabriel lifted his arms, displaying his body and letting out a long sigh, letting Jack explore. 

At this point their relationship was still new. They’d had sex a few times, but nothing beyond something simple. Still getting used to each other; most the time just exhausted and soft after training or the injections they had went through before. 

Jack wanted to savor this moment, wanted to indulge the moment of madness for as long as he could. 

“Gabriel,” He said gently, looking up at his lover’s face, it made him want to cry. “Can we have sex?” He knew the question was a little out of place, but he wanted it, wanted to have everything he could right now. “Right now?” 

Gabriel just kept his smile, “Sure sunshine.” 

Jack sat back on the bed as Gabriel got the lubricant from the side drawer. He didn't blush at the implication, of course. Different from how he used to be. Used to be shy, even when they had sex, flushed to the chest and waiting for Gabriel to make the first move. His easy confidence wouldn’t come until later in their relationship. But those details didn’t matter, this was just a very vivid and good dream and he was going to enjoy it as long as he could. 

Gabriel popped the cap on the bottle and gestured for Jack to come to him. 

“No, I want to do something different.” Jack said, letting him just be naked in front of the other man as if it were the most natural thing. He reached for the bottle of lubricant, “Just lay back.” 

“You sure?” He asked but did as he was told, positioning himself back on the bed. 

Jack straddled Gabriel’s hips, knees on either side, leaving a little bit of space while he wet his fingers and reached behind himself. “Yeah.” He breathed as his fingers grazed his opening, warm and slick. His eyes fluttered closed, he hadn’t opened himself up in years, hadn’t bothered with penetration. Masturbation had just become a chore, something he just needed to do but not something he enjoyed. 

It hurt too much to think about these moments, about Gabriel, about how it felt to be with him. 

“You’re acting so strange today.” He said, his hands roaming over Jack’s sides, his hips, encouraging as the obscene sounds of the man fucking himself on his fingers became apparent in the small room. “This is good though. I like it.” He said cheekily, his tone dropping an octave as he said, “Getting yourself wet and open for me.” 

Jack shivered as he pushed two fingers in, angling down to graze against his prostate. His thighs trembled at the intense surge of pleasure, “Yes. Just for you.” 

“You’re so pretty Jackie.” Gabriel cooed, running his hand down his flat belly to the curve of his cock. 

Jack worked himself open just a few more minutes, adding a third finger before he felt he was ready. He eased himself up and reached between them to position Gabriel exactly where he wanted him. He slicked him up before he sunk himself down, slowly letting his large cock open him up. 

“Fuck.” Gabriel groaned beneath him, stretching out, his hands pillowed on Jack’s thighs. 

It felt so good, so intense, so real. 

Gabriel’s face was pinched in pleasure, rolling his hips in turn to match his lover’s lazy rocking that slowly began to build into something more intense as they both chased their own ends. 

The entire scene; it was like he was far away, in another body, and he sort of was. Jack was noticing every detail, his hands moving along Gabriel’s body while they continued to move together. He didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to wake up, felt his emotions like a punch in the gut as his orgasm began to build. 

Jack couldn’t help it as he started to shake, barely grounded by Gabriel; couldn’t even hear what he was saying. Felt the hands move up his body, cupping his face, but it all felt so unreal. He didn’t even know when he started crying, but he never stopped moving, kept rolling his hips until he crashed over the edge, his inner muscles clenching down hard on Gabriel and forcing him over the edge whether he wanted it or not. 

They lay panting after, and finally he could hear Gabriel murmuring in his ear; his hands petting over his hair and back as he kept him cradled to his chest, “Baby, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” He asked, breathless as he was from their fucking. 

Jack just shook his head, sniffled, his vision blurry with the tears. He tucked his head under Gabriel’s chin, “J-just wanna lay like this. Please. Just, wanna sleep like this.” Forever. He wanted to say but held it back; but goddamn did he never want to wake up again. He wanted to hold onto this for as long as he could. “Please.” His voice almost a whimper, so soft and barely there. 

“Of course.” Gabriel said readily, just petting him down, kissing his temple, “Whatever you want. Just like this.”


	2. Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with tenses. I think the past will be my usual tense and the future will be more like this? How does everyone feel about that? 
> 
> I'm still working on a proper summary. But, I updated that and fixed the issues in chapter one. I'm moving forward on the story a little easier, got inspired because of all the angst that's in it. 
> 
> I think next chapter we'll have a run in with Reaper to set the mood between those guys! Anyway, thanks for reading.

Jack opens his eyes and sees darkness, hears the infinite silence and smells the musk of the stuffy, dusty room he’s in. Beneath him is the hard dirty mattress he slept on, the sheets rough against the palms of his hands. 

He sleeps in his uniform, sans the bulky leather jacket and his mask. Ready for anything, always on edge and never comfortable. 

The dream feels even more far away now that he’s awake. 

A lifetime ago, a memory, back where it belongs. 

He still can’t shake how vivid it was, even staring up into the void around him, he’s thinking of what just happened. Could swear he still tasted salt on his tongue, could feel Gabriel’s gun calloused hands on his sensitive skin. Could still feel an ache deep inside him, could almost pretend his eyes weren’t open and that when he turned over Gabriel would be there sleeping. 

Jack used to think like that, when things were fresh. 

Would wake up from nightmares, screaming and clutching sheets in a cold sweat. He’d frantically grab for his husband only to remember the way everything ended. In fire and smoke and that Gabriel was gone, gone forever and he was left in the ashes to whatever personal hell this was. 

Paying for mistakes maybe, or just life’s cruel joke. 

He’d long moved past the point of trying to make sense of his fate. Moved past trying to understand why he survived, why he was still here. Moved past wondering why he didn’t just eat a bullet and be done. 

His thirst for answers, for closure kept him motivated. Mixed with an obscure need for justice. Not for himself, but for Gabriel. Maybe if he put the ghost to rest he could finally find the courage to end his life. 

Eventually he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing his mask and putting it on his face. It takes a moment for the visor to burst to life, clicking into the ports to supply filtered oxygen and give him his vision and hearing back. 

Immediately it loads up his own personal vitals and the information of the room he’s in. 

The room is washed in an ambient red light. Everything he sees now is muted in tones of red, he has to really focus to remember the real color of things. But he supposes it’s hardly important, and more fitting everything he sees now is a mix of fire and blood. 

The room is as quiet a before, but outside he could hear the sounds of the city. Cars, hushed conversations, the steady thump of rain. The roof is leaking, a constant drip down one side of the moldy wall of the abandoned house he’s been sleeping in. 

There’s nothing really in the room; his few pieces of clothing folded and stacked on one side of the space. His medical kit, supply bag, various weapons. Rations of MREs, a package of bottled waters and a camping lantern. 

The ‘nightstand’ next to his bed is an upturned milk crate, usually where he puts his visor. Just some bottles of pills, whiskey, things to help him sleep. Maybe he took too many last night, maybe that was why he had that dream. 

He can’t stop thinking about it, even as he’s trying to. 

Maybe he stayed in this place too long too, maybe he’s made a ‘home’ when he shouldn’t have. He needs to be moving, constantly moving and seeking answers. But, he’s old and tired and for a while this tiny room in a boarded up house on the river had been his refuge. Something to call his own for the first time in seven years. 

Jack gets up and grabs the jacket off the peg on the wall. Slowly he gathers his personal effects from the space, moving here and there until he’s ready to leave. It’s just past sunset according to the wallclock. 

About to open the door when he notices the folded white paper just under the jamb of the door. He frowns, who knows he was here? Who saw him? Immediately his flight or fight kicks in, he hesitates, trying to go over the mental map of the room around him and remember if anything else was out of place before he got himself dressed. 

Cautiously he bends down to pick it up, opening it with on hand and staring at the neat bold script he doesn’t recognize. 

‘You can save him.’ 

His mind goes to Gabriel. 

But, it’s too late for that. 

So who is this person talking about? Jack is no longer a hero. Though his exploits here in Mexico might prove that otherwise. Los Muertos got in his way, impeded his mission and by happy accident he’s ended up saving some lives, helping some families. 

The old Jack would have gone out of his way to do it, dived headfirst into danger and tried to be Captain America. 

Now, maybe it’s even awful to say that the only reason anyone was saved was because it just lined up that way. He didn’t mean to, now his missions are cold and simple. Singular and selfish. Other people don’t factor in anymore, unless they’re in the way. 

He’s not a savior. 

Jack crumples up the note and throws it away somewhere in the room. 

That self preservation instinct he felt earlier has fizzled out. If this person wants to meet him, let them. If this person wants to storm his little safe house, let them. He’ll either finish his mission or die trying. 

What was the point of anything anymore? 

Just chasing a ghost and searching for a truth that won’t save anybody. Maybe a truth he doesn’t even want to know, at the end of the day. 

Jack finally pushed everything else to the back of his mind, letting his focus sharpen to his current task.

He opens the door and steps into the cold Dorado night.


End file.
